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She paces, slow flutters of material chasing after her rapid strides. Irate eyes fall fatally upon a notice.
'And so Thingol returns to sanity. Could not the Valar have spared him a couple more weeks out of his right mind? He has just screwed up everything I have been working for. A damn half-breed to rule? No.'
Her hand snaps out, smacking an intricate vase off its designated spot. It crashes to the floor, shattering into a million pieces. She stares at it for a moment before shaking her head.
'And a vase represents the demise of my dreams.'
With a growl, she slams out of the room.
And a cool expression marks her face as she walks the halls, a plan brewing in her mind.
'Sometimes things must be done for the good of the people...'
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